


Why Space Is Horrible And You Should Never Go There

by TheGoblinJester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergent, Fluff, M/M, Sci-Fi, Season 10 Spoilers, Swearing, major character death in the past, season 10 divergent, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoblinJester/pseuds/TheGoblinJester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on that one tumblr post about Dean actually taking Death's deal and ending up in space, on a distant planet and Castiel waits alongside humanity for space travel to be perfected so he can go looking for Dean.<br/>Because this takes place a couple thousand years in the future, pretty much every human Supernatural character is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Space Is Horrible And You Should Never Go There

Space is way too fucking big.

After a couple thousand years exploring it, that's all Castiel has to say on the matter.

It's unbelievably, ridiculously, over-the-top big.

Now, Castiel knows what's what. He has spent most of his life as a being of pure celestial intent, so he probably has a bigger grasp on what “big” was than most humans ever did. Hell, _he_ was big. Probably less so now, but still more than any human has ever been. But no matter how big you think things could be, space is bigger.

Much bigger.

Fuck space, is what I'm saying.

Planet Vera thirteen isn't half bad, he supposes. It's all purple and marshy. 'Course, every ounce of it is completely toxic to pretty much any organic matter, but it's still a cool-looking planet. The fact is; it, like every other planet in the fucking universe, just doesn't have what he's looking for.

He's close, though. Closer than he's been in two thousand years.

God bless humans, with their ideals and aspirations and stubbornness. Sure, he had all the know-how required for space-travel, but _they made it happen._ And they made it happen fast, too. It only took a few years of him dropping hints and writing ground-breaking memos on post-it notes in NASA for the humans to get with the program. With a little prodding and troubleshooting from his end, they were popping over to Mars for a visit by the tail end of 2230.

Humans were able to achieve space travel, and it was remarkable.

It's _still_ remarkable.

The tedious part is the actual travel.

They go as fast as they can, Castiel knows this. They also get easily distracted by strange lifeforms and weird stars. Castiel knows _this_ all too well. Ah, but what are you going to do? Humans will human just as much in space as they will on earth, and no force in existence can change that.

He's close, though. He can feel it.

More than anything, he wishes he could just zap around like he used to, all those years ago. Now _there_ was a power he had taken for granted. The entire universe at your fingertips, and you use it to fuck around with over-grown apes! Of course, now Castiel is starting to realize that the breathtaking wonders of the universe are really starting to get old. Yeah, we get it, you're physically not supposed to exist, yet you exist anyway. Big whoop.

He doesn't always feel like this. Most of the time, he's just as impressed as the humans are. Most of the time, he's impressed _with_ the humans. Most of the time, though, he's not feeling the aching tug as sharply as he is now.

That's why he's here, fiddling with the controls of a smaller, two-man ship. This one is the spare one he managed to sneak in while they were building the main ship – just in case he needed to disappear. Chances are, they won't even notice he's missing.

He likes this particular group – they are kind and don't ask any intrusive questions – but he'd made sure not to get especially attached. The last thing he needs right now is someone caring when they shouldn't be. That's how he got in this mess – caring when he shouldn't have been.

There's a glitch in the programming. The sensors won't notice him leaving, and the computer will erase any data of him. That's been there since the beginning. He had been starting to think he'd never need to use it.

But he's close now.

He takes his personal items, his share of provisions, and a couple bottles of water. Anything more would be noticeable – hell, he's already pushing it pretty close with the extra water bottle. He packs that shit up and leaves, thanking the genius who'd invented a quieter engine.

Vera's second-smallest moon, Nero, is his best guess. It's the furthest one from the planet, and it's so desolate that the humans hadn't thought twice about it.

It's a shitty-ass moon. Especially when Vera fourteen has those moons that spit water at each other. That's pretty damn sweet.

Castiel's scared.

He hasn't done so in a long time, but now he prays. Prays to whoever is out there that this isn't a false alarm, and he won't have to search anymore.

The ship he took is easy to fly, unfortunately, so that clears his mind up for plenty of worry and doubt. So many what-ifs and maybes flew around his mind that he was starting to feel like he'd become a human again.

The pull gets stronger, though, and Castiel steels himself to follow it.

Nero is even shittier up close.

Castiel doesn't bother with a suit. He doesn't need it. Nero is literally just a rock, and won't prove to be any harm to his body. Plus, he doesn't need to breathe or worry about pressurization. Even if suits have gotten more compact over the years, they're still clunky and ridiculous.

Right now, Castiel prefers to wear something older. Something more recognizable.

As an afterthought, he puts his tie on backwards.

Someone really needs to do some dusting up on Nero. It's filthy. Castiel doesn't mind so much, but this seems like the worst kind of place to just _drop_ someone who can be quite nit-picky.

Oh, there's the pull. It's strongest coming from a rather deep crater, and Castiel eases his way down the slope as quickly as he can. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is it. He hurries across the base of the crater, realizing that he probably could have just walked around it. Oh well, no time for dithering. Thanks to the gentler pull of gravity here, Castiel bounds up the opposite rocky wall with ease.

Nebulae unfurl overhead in the endless star field, especially beautiful without all that pesky atmosphere in the way. Castiel hardly notices. A greater beauty is waiting.

He's starting to wonder if this was worth it.

Finally, at the edge of the canyon, Castiel pauses.

There ahead of him, sitting on top of a boulder, is Dean. His head tilted back, eyes idly watching the stars, perfectly still. No shaking of the hand, no shuddering breaths, just peace.

Oh yeah, this was worth it.

Castiel suddenly doesn't know what to do with himself. He's been waiting for this moment for so long now, he had half-expected it not to happen at all. Now he's here, hardly twenty feet away, and he's somewhat inclined to believe he's dreaming. He hasn't had a proper dream since the last time he was a human, of course, but perhaps his psyche's so frayed that he's finally slipped into delusion.

Before he can decide upon a course of action, Dean looks down and notices him.

There's a moment of nothing other than gazes meeting, trains of thought crashing to a halt, a calm before the inevitable storm of emotion.

Dean's fucking filthy.

The moon's dust is yellow, and Dean looks like goddamn Big Bird because of it. It's in his hair, his clothing, everywhere. Speaking of clothing, he's managed to keep his in relatively good shape, but he's evidently ditched his socks and shoes and a couple layers of plaid. He's thinner. Not drastically so – the mark must have practically frozen his metabolism – but enough for Castiel to be glad he packed food.

Dean slides down from the boulder with practiced ease, well-adjusted to the moon's gravity. He looks at Castiel with wide, uncertain eyes. Castiel feels like something's lodged in his throat, and the corners of his eyes sting a little. Space doesn't agree with him.

“ _Cas?_ ” Dean mouths. Sound doesn't travel in space. And even if it did, Dean's probably parched enough that he wouldn't have been able to make a noise either way.

Castiel nods, keeping his lips firmly pressed together for fear of them trembling. He spreads his arms with a kind of shrug, a sort of “here I am” gesture. Dean gives half a laugh at this, stepping closer.

“ _How?_ ” Dean asks, tentatively reaching out and putting his hands on Castiel's shoulders, as if to make sure he's real. The touch is not as warm as it once would have been, but Castiel relishes in it nonetheless.

“ _Doesn't matter._ ” Castiel replies before they embrace. Even after all this time, they still kind of fit together. Social constrictions be dammed, Castiel is going to hold Dean as tight and for as long as he likes. Dean seems alright with this, melting into the hug like he was born to do it. This is when the tears come, and Castiel stops trying to hold them back.

After an uncountable measure of time, they pull away. Dean holds Castiel at arm's length, looking him up and down with a slowly spreading grin. His eyes pause on Castiel's cheeks, and Dean takes a moment to wipe the tears away.

God, Castiel loves him so much.

With a nod of his head towards where he came from, Castiel bids Dean come with him back to the ship. They walk side-by-side; Castiel with a hand on Dean's back, reluctant to cease contact with him. It's close, intimate, open, forgiving, the way they walk. The kind of thing Castiel will dream about, once his psyche does wear away once and for all. But now that he's with Dean, he feels like they could go on forever. And they could, they really could.

When they come close to the ship, Dean's jaw drops. It probably looks like it came out of his nerdiest fantasy. It might have, actually, considering Castiel's involvement in the designs.

Once inside, Castiel turns on the artificial gravity and Dean stumbles, leaning up against the wall. Now that they're within the airlock, he takes a gasping breath and Castiel makes him sit down in the co-pilot's seat.

“Cas...” Dean croaks, and Castiel hands him a water bottle. Dean takes it without protest and starts chugging. Drops of water roll down his chin in a very distracting manner, and Castiel has to take the bottle from him before Dean makes himself sick.

“Water is fucking amazing.” Dean says, voice hoarse from centuries of disuse. “I fucking love water.”

Castiel passes him a washcloth, and Dean proceeds to turn it yellow by rubbing it all over his face. His freckles are starting to show through the layers of dust, now, and they're a more welcome sight than anything Castiel can imagine.

“Keep staring at me like that, I'm gonna hafta charge you.” Dean tells him as Castiel presses a toothbrush into his hand.

“Can you blame me?” Castiel asks quietly.

Dean gives a “fair enough” jerk of his head, and makes quick work of brushing his teeth.

“My breath hasn't been minty fresh in... how long?” Dean asks when he's done.

“Two thousand, five hundred and thirty-one years.” Castiel says. “The year is forty-five forty-six.”

“Damn.” Dean breathes.

“My sentiments, exactly.” Castiel agrees. “Do you want something to eat? Or a change of clothes? Or-”

“You know what, Cas?” Dean interjects. “I'm hydrated, my teeth are clean, I'm on a fucking _spaceship,_ and I'm with you. I'm good.”

“Well, then I guess I'll just delete the last two seasons of Doctor Sexy that you never got to see...” Castiel says with a heavy sigh.

“Cas. Oh my god. Can I kiss you?”

Castiel leans in eagerly.

Oh my god, indeed. Why hadn't they done this years ago? Castiel had known that kissing felt good, but kissing _Dean_ is something else altogether. It feels _right_ and _warm_ and nothing else matters at this moment.

Dean presses close to him, Castiel holds him tight, both basking in the relief of _finally_ being together after two thousand years and several billion miles apart. The kiss ends, both grinning too much to continue, but they remain close.

“Damn glad you're here.” Dean tells him.

“Me too.” Castiel breathes.

“Crazy how the universe works...” Dean remarks.

“Are you under the impression that me finding you was some cosmic coincidence?” Castiel asks, smoothing down the lapel of Dean's jacket. “It wasn't. I came looking.”

“Sounds like looking for a needle in an infinite field of hay.” Dean says with a frown. “How did you track me down?”

“Oh, I suppose I never did tell you...” Castiel says thoughtfully. “I can sense longing. Ordinarily, at that kind of distance, I shouldn't have even known which direction to start looking in, but you... you shone through like a spot light.”

“Ah.” Dean replies, ears going a bit pink.

“You like me.” Castiel told him. “Cosmically.”

“Uh, yeah, that's a way of putting it...” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That's good, because I love you.” Castiel said earnestly. “Universally.”

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“Actually, you could take it to mean 'to every corner of the universe', even though the universe has no set parameters, which-”

“Can we go back to kissing, and save the physics for later?” Dean asked.

Castiel is very much in favor of this, and they spend an unmeasured amount of time sharing slow, happy kisses.

“So...” Dean breathed when they parted. “What have I missed?”

“The cure for cancer, the happening and un-happening of the Norse apocalypse; many, _many_ Marvel movies; a great deal of politics; space travel...” Castiel listed. “A lot of things. But we have plenty of time to catch up.”

“Yeah.” Dean agrees. He has things he needs to talk about; Sam, the Mark, all their old friends, but that can wait. Right now, he has Cas.

“It just so happens that I know a planet with very nice beaches.” Castiel informed him. “The humans deemed it uninhabitable after one of their crew members died and started haunting them, but I took care of that.”

“Sounds perfect.” Dean replied. “We're overdue for a beach day.”

“We're overdue for a lot of things.” Castiel says. “For example: _you_ are overdue for a shower.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel smiles to himself, starting up the ship and taking off like a bullet.

Space is way too fucking big, and he's never gonna lose Dean in it again.

**Author's Note:**

> Dean's OOC because he's been on that little moon for a couple thousand years so I think he'd be a bit more emotionally open after that.


End file.
